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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464051">Vapours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clerati/pseuds/clerati'>clerati</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Post-X-Men: The Last Stand (2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:14:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clerati/pseuds/clerati</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What would I do without you?” She doesn’t mean to say it out loud, doesn’t even mean to think it, but the thought comes out like air from her lungs, a sustaining breath.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Allerdyce/Rogue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Vapours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why’d you leave?” Her hand bunches up the hem of his shirt, pulls him forward. “Don’t you like our arrangement?”<br/>
<br/>
“Where you dangle yourself in front of me?” His mouth is set like boredom, but then again, it always is.<br/>
<br/>
“You don’t like to play anymore?” Their breaths mingle in the cool air, coloring the space between them like smoke. </p><p>He looks her up and down, leans forward so that they’re almost touching at the mouth, just almost. It’s the kind of reply that so him it hurts. She feels flustered, hot, nervous. </p><p>She twists the fabric in her fist, relaxes her hand, smooths the fabric out, runs her palm down his chest again and again through the barrier. </p><p>“What would I do without you?” She doesn’t mean to say it out loud, doesn’t even mean to think it, but the thought comes out like air from her lungs, a sustaining breath. </p>
<hr/><p>“Where are you?” </p><p>He doesn’t know what she means, and she realizes she doesn’t either. </p><p><em> Here with you. </em> She can see it in his eyes, unwavering devotion. </p><p>The space between them can be measured by inches, but something larger too. </p><p>
  <em> Tell me I’m still your muse. </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>She means to ask, <em> Do you love Magneto more than me?</em>, but it comes out “I love you.”<br/>
<br/>
She’s never said it before, not to anyone else because it wasn’t true, and not to him because he’s only hers in theory. </p><p>His plush lips form into a smirk, and she can almost feel him holding back an ‘I know’ like he’s Han Solo, but then that would be a goodbye and they have an unspoken agreement never to say goodbye to one another. </p><p>“I love you too.” There’s something proud in his voice, something that tastes like distance, but it’s still an intimate moment because she heard his voice say the words, watched his lips form them.</p><p>It was something accidental, letting the words slip, but she thinks it must have been the force of fate or love or something else vaguely religious, because now things are better. </p>
<hr/><p>It’s like time stopped, or reversed she supposes, because she’s looking at him and he looks 17 again. She pulls him in by the shirt, feels the fabric in her hand as real as anything, feels his hot breath on her face from just an inch away.</p><p>“How many years has it been?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“Ghosts are guilt, ghosts are secrets, ghosts are regrets and failings. But most times, most times a ghost is a wish” - The Haunting of Hill House</p><p>Partially inspired by <a href="https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1742188/1/Twisted">Twisted</a> and it's <a href="https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2250113/1/Rift">squeal </a> by  <a href="https://www.fanfiction.net/u/74701/Orli"> Orli</a>.<br/>Orli- if you ever read this, I hope you will take this small gift with a smile.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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